


His Dark Smile

by orphan_account



Category: Derek Hale - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Blood and Torture, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hurt Derek Hale, Kidnapping, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6545140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing I noticed even before I opened my eyes was that my movements were restricted and something cold and metallic was hugging my wrists tightly and opening my eyes, the suspicion was confirmed.</p><p>I sighed.</p><p>There were heavy metal chains around my wrists and ankles that were looped through a ring welded into a metal plate on the farthest wall.</p><p>They didn’t have to be quite so dramatic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Loft

The first thing I noticed even before I opened my eyes was that my movements were restricted and something cold and metallic was hugging my wrists tightly and opening my eyes, the suspicion was confirmed.

I sighed.

There were heavy metal chains around my wrists and ankles that were looped through a ring welded into a metal plate on the farthest wall.

They didn’t have to be quite so dramatic!

I was lying on a soft rug that was so cozy that it could pass off as a bed. I sprang up to my feet and naturally lost balance and I landed on my ass again.

“Ow.” The protest burst through my lips and my voice sounded hoarse even to my own ears. God how long was I out again?

I took in my surroundings slowly before I decided to start panicking, though there were reasons enough...for hello! Chains!

The room was huge actually and it had wooden floor and an industrial looking metal sliding door which was, obviously shut. The walls were a shade of burnt orange and there was an antique-looking metal spiral staircase at one corner. On the other end of the room there was this wall-to-wall window with black, satin curtains (seriously!) drawn open to reveal a stunning view of the full moon hanging low in the sky.

There was a tiny kitchenette on one side, with a coffee machine (thank the Lord for the small blessings!) and what I hoped to be a bathroom next to it, within an easy reach and I noticed with a relief that my chains were long enough to allow me to visit the bathroom.

The room or the loft (that was more like it) was sparsely furnished with a cosy looking leather sofa set in dark shades and a king-size bed and a huge desk with the window at the background. There were an odd chair or two and a coffee table with a laptop opened on it.

There were no pictures on the wall and it looked very bare.

There was a bottle of water near my head and suddenly I noticed my throat was perched. I opened the sealed bottle and emptied it in a few gulps. Something was wrong...I was drowsy and my legs gave away under me. Before falling asleep I heard a dog growling from somewhere nearby.

When I woke up, it was clearly daytime, but the light seeping through the window was slanted, which meant it was probably late afternoon. Before I could analyze what this meant a low snarling from the door caught my attention.

I was half afraid to look, but I steeled myself.

Slowly I sat up and turned towards the source of the snarling. A dark figure was hunched over with his back to the door. His knees were drawn to his chest and he was hugging them tightly with his head tucked between his knees. He was shivering uncontrollably.

“Hey...” I said. 

I never claimed to have a good self-preservation instinct.

The figure didn’t take any heed. He just stood up and boy, he was tall, his face turned away and he tried to slid the door open.

He hissed as soon as he clutched the door handle, but he gripped it anyway, making pained noises under his breath.

After sometime he released it and kicked the door in frustration. The sound reverberated throughout the loft, making me cower.

“Hey...” I called, louder this time.

Somehow I knew this was not my captor and somehow I was convinced he was as much trapped into this loft as I was.

The man didn’t look back. He just stalked off towards the direction of the staircase and climbed up. Within a few moments he disappeared from my sight and I curled into a ball again on the rug, wondering if the entire thing was a hallucination.

...

My stomach was growling but my chain was just short of making it out to the coffee maker.

“Motherfucking kidnappers!” I wanted to cry for the first time for I was so damn hungry.

There was another bottle of water near me.

I decided to drink it for the worst thing that could happen was to fall asleep and with the hunger gnawing in my stomach, that option seemed like a blessing.

...

It took me a few seconds to register that the soft broken whimpers were coming out of my throat.

God...I was hungry. I had never felt what hunger was before until now. It seemed like there were tiny ants biting and eating up my stomach lining and the imagery was not good for me. At all!

I felt tears rolling down my cheeks and I didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

There was probably a camera tucked somewhere and it must be some sort of sick reality show for I could not perceive any immediate threat except for dying of hunger, up to now.  


Well, that won’t be pretty!

I had tried to yank at my chains to loosen them somewhat and was rewarded with welts and bruises. I might die there and I found I really didn’t care, not after Sydney. I would happily die if somebody could make me a burger, with pickles.

...

I woke up with a burger, with pickles on a plate placed right at my head.

I ate like a caveman and my stomach growled in protest, but it was mouth-wateringly good and a lot fresher than the MacDonald’s.

I didn’t question it for who am I to question a good burger! Not I...

I drank the water, muttered a thank you, feeling like a complete moron and slept.

...

I woke up with the most startling pair of green eyes staring at me, one side of the face pressed down on the wooden floor merely a couple of feet away.

I yelped and sprang up and the eyes, the man with the green eyes bolted back, startled.

HOT, DAMN!

There are good-looking and there are beautiful and there are smoking hot.

The man with his back against the wall looking at me like a deer caught in headlight was all three combined together and then some more.

I stared at his face, completely hypnotised, and it was no hardship actually. He had those kinds of jaws that cut diamond and oh dear God the fucking cheekbones were completely insane. The picture was complete with straight-arrow nose, slightly pouty lips and adorable ears. Only after I got over the face that my eyes roved downward...

Aaaaand like that I was a goner....

For surely I had died and woke up in heaven with an angel cowering against the wall from me.

The idea sounded so stupid that I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Somehow I veered towards crying and a broken sob escaped from me before I could stop myself and once it was out, there was no stopping. I hunched down on myself and sobbed, with open eyes for I was wary of the figure and couldn’t afford take my eyes off him. 

The creature (angel or human) flinched and curled into a tighter ball. He let out a pathetic sound, half whimper and half growl...with those impossible eyes staring into my soul unblinkingly.

He was afraid of me, I suddenly realized, which was all kinds of ridiculous for the man or angel or creature looked like he could break me into half like a toothpick. He was not exactly a hulk, but he had muscles, like serious muscles that were on full display for he was wearing only a tank-top and a pair of distressed blue jeans. 

“Hey can you talk?” That shouldn’t have been the first question coming out of my mouth on seeing a strange man with whom you are locked up in an unfamiliar room, but since when did I follow the beaten path!

Also, it had been days and he had made no move to hurt me in any way, even though he seemed to be under as much stress as I was. Also, I had not heard him talking except for the growly sounds so far.

“I am sorry for startling you.” I offered, wiping the corner of my eyes. “I didn’t mean to cry. That was stupid of me.”

He made a frowny face and even that was completely adorable.

“I will not hurt you.” I assured him out of the blue. The man’s outward form certainly did not need any reassurances, but he looked so much like a skittish animal that I had to say it out loud, even though it sounded ridiculous.

The man cocked his head and it might be my imagination, but he relaxed a bit.

“Can you talk?” I asked again.

The man huffed and relaxed completely. He released his knees and stretched his legs in front of him, with his back resting against the back of the wall. He crossed his legs at the ankle, placed his hands on his lap, fingers clasped and looked at me.

It was like he was made for staring.

It was insane how gorgeous he was. Everything about him from the dark mop of hair to the tip of his pink toenail of his bare feet was sheer perfection.

But the best of all were his eyes...so mesmerizingly beautiful that my breath hitched just by looking at them.

“Are you an angel?” I blurted out.

He quirked one dark eyebrow at me, almost sardonically, and I clicked my mouth shut.

“Don’t need to be so judgmental.” I said irritably. “I guess I hit my head hard when they kidnapped me.”

Another eyebrow rose to join its twin.

“What?” I gritted out. “Just a few seconds ago you were cowering from me. Now you are sarcastic!”

The eyebrows came down and he looked at me flatly.

“Well you were afraid of me, up until I opened my mouth.” I argued. “And to think that I am the one who is chained up.”

He tilted his head with a sigh, looking profoundly unimpressed.

Well, he might have a point there. The fact that I was chained up in an apartment locked from the outside would make me look dangerous, like I was some deranged animal.

“I am not dangerous.” I said. “I don’t know why they have chained me up.”

The unimpressed stare continued.

“Can you unchain me though?” I held my hands up.

The man huffed and look at me incredulously. The stare said it all - I am not fucking insane.

“Ok,” I heaved a sigh. “So you cannot talk and yet you manage to be an asshole!”

That brought out a surprised laugh. 

HOLY SHIT! 

His smile died down almost immediately and he raised his eyebrows again, in slow motion. I realised I had stopped breathing altogether. For a split second I was seeing moon and stars and the whole fucking galaxy floating around my vision.

“You are sure you are not an angel?” It came out of my mouth before I could stop it.

His mouth quirked up again and for the first time, he dropped his gaze and oh God...kill me now...for he was actually blushing!

“You realise that you are insanely beautiful?” I wanted to clarify for my stupid behaviour. 

He raised his eyes at me and even though his cheeks and ears were tinted pink, there was a world of pain in his eyes. It hit me like an actual physical blow. 

“Hey...it is ok.” I wanted to crawl to the stranger and hold his face between my hands and comfort him. THAT face was not meant to hold that sad expression. It was profoundly wrong!

Before I could act on it though the stranger abruptly stood up, eyes locked on the door. His face...did not exactly show fear or apprehension, it was more like resignation. I didn’t know what his deal was for I could hear nothing, but the next thing I knew, the stranger was in front of me, crouching down. I was so startled that I froze instantly and he shoved a bottle of water into my hands and made a motion for me to drink it. I took it automatically and stared at it dumbly. The stranger tapped on the bottle with his index finger and made an impatient gesture, casting another glace towards the door.

I didn’t get what he was trying to achieve but at that moment I decided he was not my enemy and he had more understanding than me as to whatever the hell was going on in this mysterious prison cell of mine.

So I went against all my instincts and gulped down the clear liquid obediently.

Predictably, the world became blissfully dark after that!


	2. The Captors

I woke up to the sound of sound of something sizzling on the oven, and the smell of stir-fried chicken wafting in air. I opened my eyes slowly. I was still sleep-heavy, but I had got past the time I would jolt awake by the unfamiliar surroundings. The loft had begun to feel familiar now, which in itself was a worrisome thought. 

First you come to think of your prison cell as some sort of sanctuary, then you become habituated with the routine and with the presence of chains around your wrists and then you are slowly lulled into a sense of false security. Finally you start to rely on your captors mentally not to let any harm come to you - and then the circle is complete. You become putty in the hands of your kidnapper.

I had to intention to become that!

I sat up warily. The beautiful stranger was at the kitchenette, stirring something on a frying pan. I stood up and approached it, falling short of the kitchen counter by a couple of feet. I gave a frustrated tug at my chains, but of course I ended up chaffing my skin further. 

“Gah!” I exclaimed frustrated.

The stranger looked up from the pan.

Well, in future I would brace myself before drawing his attention! He was freshly showered, with hair still wet and all. He had changed into a comfortable looking dark teal Henley with three-quarter sleeves with roll-up tabs and dark jeans.

He was so beautiful that almost gave me a heart attack. 

“What are you doing?” I sniffed the air.

He looked at the pan pointedly.

“Yeah I can SEE you are cooking?” I frowned. “But why?”

My stomach decided to rumble at the very moment. He looked at me, tilted his head and smirked.

What an asshole!

Even if by some miracle you can hear somebody’s stomach rumble from a few meters away, you are supposed to ignore it. But of course it was just my luck that I was stuck in a fucking loft with an uncivilized brat!

“Do you think I am stupid enough to eat whatever you are cooking over there?” I grumbled. “You are making me drink water that is spiked with drugs. What is stopping you from poisoning the food?”

He held my gaze for a couple of seconds and then took out a fork from a drawer and returned to the pan, speared a piece of chicken and shoved it into his mouth. It must have been hot for he winced slightly, but he braved it on and chewed slowly, staring at me pointedly the entire time. Then he swallowed the food down and arched an eyebrow.

“Urgh...ok.” I slumped down. “Ok, you have made your point. I will eat.” I waved my hand dismissively. Hunger was gnawing at me stomach, but I had to put up the act or else I would be another hopeless kidnap victim suffering from the Stockholm syndrome.

The stranger glared at me. It was pretty impressive, his glare, I mean. But he emptied the pan on two plates and came towards me.

He offered one plate to me and sat cross-legged on the floor, motioning me to sit as well. I realised I was gaping at him. I discovered that his proximity was not exactly a positive re-enforcement as far as my mental clarity was concerned, but I tried to snap out of it and sat down, gingerly, facing him.

The food looked delicious. It was chicken sautéed with broccoli and belle peppers, Chinese-style. I took one fork-full and I was sold.

“Mmmmmm....” I hummed. “’S good...!”

I started shoving food into my mouth without bothering about decorum. I didn’t know it was because I was famished or not, but I had never had stir-fry chicken this yummy in my life.

I was finished within a couple of minutes and ended up staring at the stranger, who was going about the food in a much civilised manner.

“I need to know what to call you or I would keep on calling you beautiful stranger in my head,” I said. Then I added, for he made a face like he had bitten into a lemon, “and judging from your expression, you don’t particularly care for that song.” 

He regarded me thoughtfully for a few seconds. I didn’t need to be a genius to realise he was having an internal debate whether to tell me his name or not. 

“I don’t know you.” I encouraged him. “I don’t think knowing your name will make any difference.”

He huffed and extended a hand towards me. I looked down at it, puzzled. He wiggled his fingers impatiently. I reached out tentatively and before I could make a contact, he grabbed my fingers and tucked all of them saving the index fingers into my palm using his thumb. His hand was large and warm. I shivered from the contact, but he ignored my reaction completely. Instead he drew letters on the floor using my index finger.

He drew a ‘D’ and immediately released my hand and rose up, eyes trained on the sliding door. 

“What?” I asked, alarmed, but ‘D’, was not listening. He was not even standing in front of me anymore. Within a split second, he had managed to circle around me and place himself between me and the door, which was sliding open at that moment.

“Well, well, well...” the man entering the loft was nothing like I had imagined. 

For he was clearly blind!

“What happened to I-am-not-going-within-two-yards-of-her?”

Well, then maybe not! Was he faking? But he was wearing dark glasses and he had a cane.

Another man entered into the loft along with an attractive woman on his arm with long brown hair falling around her shoulders in soft curls. The man looked well into his eighties and he had eyes only for me, whereas the dark-haired woman was looking at ‘D’ with a cloyingly sweet smile. 

Finally there were two other burly men who entered and planted themselves at the door. They looked like bodyguards for they had that kind of blank and intimidating air of one.  


“How charming.” The old man commented. “He is making you food.”

“Oh is that so?” The blind man smiled. “Are you feeling sorry for her? Have you started to care?”

D vehemently shook his head. He was standing with his legs parted and his hands balled by his side. He had his back towards me and from the way the impressive muscles at his back had tensed up, I was under no delusions these people were bad news.

“Oh he cares alright.” The lady spoke up this time. She had scarlet lips which were in stark contrast with her milky white skin and she was looking at D like, well I really had no other way to describe it but it was like she was mentally undressing him.

“He is the easiest one.” She smiled, saccharine sweet. “He tries to pretend that he doesn’t. He is always about how he doesn’t trust anybody and how he doesn’t really care if anybody is hurt. But he always cares.”

“So it is only a matter of time.” The blind man said conversationally, standing directly in front of D. “You are going to be a good boy and do what we want of you.”

D shot forward and his head caught the blind man in the middle, making him double over.

I winced for he should have broken ribs with that hit.

Instead of slumping down, the man caught D by the collar and jerked him like the tall, muscular man weighed nothing and threw him against a wall like a ragdoll.

I screamed for that would surely break his spine into half. I had come to really like D. He had fed me and tried to take care of me in general.

D landed in a heap on the floor. 

I started sobbing as he tried to rise up using his elbows and knees and failed.

The old man walked over to him and for the first time I saw he was holding a long, black sinister-looking instrument in his hand.

D tried to get up again when the man jabbed it to his ribs and D fell down again with an animalistic scream.

I realised it was an electric cattle prod.

Fucking monsters!

“Stop it!” I yelled as the old man jabbed and jabbed again, at will, at D’s back, who just lay there, curling into a ball, whimpering.

He went on like he didn’t hear me at all.

“How does it feel?” The old man sneered at him. “How does it feel to be burned again and again, even as your skin renews itself and then to lie down and wait for the pain to come again? How does it feel to be hopeless?”

“He is losing his power. Isn’t he?” 

The brown-haired lady asked in a smug voice. “I am sure it wouldn’t have been so easy to make him give up so easily.”

“I think it worked.” The old man smirked. “We had been able to train the dog at last. He wouldn’t turn knowing what happened when he did it last time.”

He prodded D another time before walking away from the limp form. I would have rushed by his side if not restrained by my chains.

“What the hell do you want?” I whispered, tears flooding my cheeks.

These guys were sadistic bastards. I could expect no kindness from them and I was doomed.

“Oh we want quite a lot from you.” The lady smiled at me. “But not now. It is his turn to deliver and then it is all up to you.”

I had no clue what they were talking about, but I knew it couldn’t be pleasant for me. At least they were not using the cattle prod on me.

“Gerard, I think Lyla is afraid of your little toy.” The lady laughed, following my gaze.

“Oh it is not for you my dear.” Gerard, the old man said. “I use it to train dogs and other animals. You are not an animal. You are special.”

“D is not an animal either.” I said shakily.

“D?” He asked, clearly puzzled and then he threw back his head and laughed. All three of them did like villains in a bad rom-com.

“Oh my God, this is going to be way too much fun.” The lady said, clapping her hands eagerly.

“Oh we haven’t introduced ourselves.” The blind man spoke. “How rude of us.”

I beat down the urge to roll my eyes.

“I am Deucalion and this lovely lady is Jennifer Blake. That is Gerard Argent over there.” He said smoothly.

“Nice to meet you.” I said. “I would have offered coffee, but I am a little bit tied down as of now.” I shrugged.

“Feisty,” Deucalion smirked. 

“Untie me asshole and see how much feisty I can be.” I snapped.

“Hmm...you are definitely his match.” He mused while the other two smiled like it was an inside joke or something.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

The blind man, Deucalion, approached me at a leisurely but confident pace. He seemed to know exactly where I was standing. 

I did not move from my spot, trying to show I was not afraid of a blind man. But in reality I was fucking terrified.

Deucalion reached out and rubbed a hand over my face. I could not help but shudder at the contact. The man is freaky, all three of them were.

From the corner of my eyes I could see D trying to rise from the floor with a supreme effort and the old man, Gerard stabbed him again. D winced and dropped his head to the floor, but the second time Gerard was about to make contact, his hand shot out and he grabbed the prod even while electricity was running through it and jerked it forward so that Gerard lost his balance and fell over D.

D flipped him on him back and was on top of him, throttling the man.

The two bodyguards were on him in an instant, grabbing his hands and prying him away from Gerard. D got a good kick to his balls before they could drag him away. Gerard was wheezing in pain. Served him exactly right, I thought triumphantly.

“It seems you have yet to learn your lesson.” Deucalion shook his head ruefully. “You need to know never to lash out to any of us for we hold the position of power here.”  


He approached D where the other two goons were holding him between them. D was struggling viciously in their hold, but it was clear they outmatched him in strength.

“You need to learn to behave.” Deucalion grabbed his chin and said in a quiet but firm tone. “How many times would I have to emphasize that?”

D spat right on his face.

Good man!

The woman, Jennifer Blake laughed. It was a tinkling sound and I couldn’t believe somebody looking so beautiful be that evil. Deucalion went rigid and took out a handkerchief from him pocket. He wipe his face off, without saying a single word. The air in the loft changed into something absolutely dark and foreboding.

“Take him upstairs and teach him,” he hissed to the two men holding D, “who holds the power here. Make him beg.”

A chill ran down my spine at his tone as the other two obeyed him and dragged D kicking and fighting up the metal staircase.

“What are you going to do with him?” I asked.

“Consider yourself lucky we are trying to protect your sensibility.” The woman smiled sweetly at me.

The screamings started just then.

“Well, not entirely.” Deucalion shrugged.

I sank to the ground and covered my ears with my hands, but still I couldn’t escape the sound.

“Make it stop.” I whimpered.

“Oh sweetheart. Only he can choose to make it stop, whenever he wants.” Jennifer said.

So I just lay there, sobbing into the cold floor for what seemed like hours until the screamings died down and the two men came down the staircase. Both of them had blood splattered all over their shirt and one of them was zipping up his trousers. Both were grinning widely, and that alone on top of everything else got my stomach churn in revulsion.  


“Next time we will do it in front of you babydoll.” One of the men smirked at me.

“That is enough.” Deucalion’s voice rang out in the loft and even I could feel the command behind it.

“Let us leave today. We have given our young guest a lot to think about.”

I didn’t bother to glance at them for I was sure to throw up. When I heard the metal door slide shut I realised I was alone again.

I strained my ears to listen for more sounds upstairs, but there was none.

I didn’t even know if those bastards had killed that D or not. I sighed and curled into a ball on my rug feeling utterly hopeless.


End file.
